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Harry Potter 7
The day did not dawn auspiciously - I lost my fangirl badge for thinking the midnight release was Saturday night rather than Friday night, then we tarried too long at my uncle's dinner and I had to resort to driving to a 24-hour HEB at 11 PM, where I finally secured their second-to-last copy. I returned home triumphant and finished reading about half an hour ago, in the same chair where I read the first book - a chance pickup by my father at the library when I was 12, thinking I would like it. I certainly did - I couldn't put the damn thing down until I finished, and then made Lindsey read it rightawayOMG.
See, Lindsey and I were making jokes beforehand about how Cartographer's Craft was probably going to be better than the actual novel.
That was supposed to *stay* a joke, dammit.
Not that there weren't things I loved. Neville showing up cheerfully covered in cuts and bruises - I know he was proud of them, as battle scars, and do I ever want to see Hogwarts guerilla!fic - and then pulling the sword out of the hat (bet Griphook was pissed, too bad) was awesome. Luna was equally fabulous: recognizing Harry at the wedding, the portraits on her bedroom ceiling, her unfailing good sense and faith. The image of McGonagall summoning the armor to battle gave me shivers, and the image of her leading a battle charge of desks was hilariously breathtaking. I cried like a baby while Harry chose his sacrifice, even though I *knew* he wasn't going to stay dead. Some of the word choices when Harry was in Voldemort's head were creepy and illuminating of his worldview.
The evil locket gave me Lord of the Rings flashbacks, and Harry's sacrifice reminded me of Aslan in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (appropriate for a Griffindor, no?)
I suppose my biggest problem was the ending. Nineteen years, and your son is still afraid of being a Slytherin, Harry? What have you been *doing* all that time? Harry seems like a loving father, but we get nothing else from that chapter about his passions after that post-battle bed-and-sandwich. Surely Harry wouldn't do *nothing* for the rest of his life - it's a betrayal of his entire struggle. What about the injustices? The Muggle-born, and the wreckage of the Ministry? The house-elves, the centaurs, the giants who fought for Hogwarts? The problems with the Houses, with Sorting, with prejudice? The Death Eaters and the coerced? We had the Malfoys huddled in shock, and Draco seems to have survived well enough, but who else.
I was so disappointed in Ron, projecting their generation's strife onto his children. Perversely, it made me want Albus in Slytherin and to slash Scorpius with Hugo. JKR really dropped the ball on that.
God, the entire scene made me want to scream. I understand not wanting trouble anymore (though saying so is just inviting trouble, *really*), but not passivity. I think JKR was trying to set up a hopeful new generation, learning from the struggles of their parents, but that was not what I saw. The only one I'm really pleased about is Professor Neville. Yay Neville! Marry Luna and have deeply awesome offspring!
I don't even know what to say about Remus and Tonks. 'Uneven' is one word. 'Horribly depressing' is another couple. Patient, weary Remus doesn't seem the type to marry in haste and then run away from his pregnant wife. His reconciliation with Harry was too easy, for all that it eased my heart for Harry's sake. And then both of them dying, sight unseen, for Harry to see as symbols of his failure? Just... enh. How much tragedy must you heap on the poor man? It broke my heart, and made me mad at the *author* instead of the injustice, which is the wrong reaction.
I was so proud of Harry, though. For all his flaws, he grew into quite a man, and a true hero. (I loved when he joked to Ron that these things are never as cool as they sound.) I just want to ignore that damn epilogue. Thank goodness for fanfic. Let the games begin....
ETA: Also? First-naming all your children after people who were killed violently is not charming, it's CREEPY and CONFUSING. Ron and Draco escaped this impulse, fortunately.
See, Lindsey and I were making jokes beforehand about how Cartographer's Craft was probably going to be better than the actual novel.
That was supposed to *stay* a joke, dammit.
Not that there weren't things I loved. Neville showing up cheerfully covered in cuts and bruises - I know he was proud of them, as battle scars, and do I ever want to see Hogwarts guerilla!fic - and then pulling the sword out of the hat (bet Griphook was pissed, too bad) was awesome. Luna was equally fabulous: recognizing Harry at the wedding, the portraits on her bedroom ceiling, her unfailing good sense and faith. The image of McGonagall summoning the armor to battle gave me shivers, and the image of her leading a battle charge of desks was hilariously breathtaking. I cried like a baby while Harry chose his sacrifice, even though I *knew* he wasn't going to stay dead. Some of the word choices when Harry was in Voldemort's head were creepy and illuminating of his worldview.
The evil locket gave me Lord of the Rings flashbacks, and Harry's sacrifice reminded me of Aslan in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (appropriate for a Griffindor, no?)
I suppose my biggest problem was the ending. Nineteen years, and your son is still afraid of being a Slytherin, Harry? What have you been *doing* all that time? Harry seems like a loving father, but we get nothing else from that chapter about his passions after that post-battle bed-and-sandwich. Surely Harry wouldn't do *nothing* for the rest of his life - it's a betrayal of his entire struggle. What about the injustices? The Muggle-born, and the wreckage of the Ministry? The house-elves, the centaurs, the giants who fought for Hogwarts? The problems with the Houses, with Sorting, with prejudice? The Death Eaters and the coerced? We had the Malfoys huddled in shock, and Draco seems to have survived well enough, but who else.
I was so disappointed in Ron, projecting their generation's strife onto his children. Perversely, it made me want Albus in Slytherin and to slash Scorpius with Hugo. JKR really dropped the ball on that.
God, the entire scene made me want to scream. I understand not wanting trouble anymore (though saying so is just inviting trouble, *really*), but not passivity. I think JKR was trying to set up a hopeful new generation, learning from the struggles of their parents, but that was not what I saw. The only one I'm really pleased about is Professor Neville. Yay Neville! Marry Luna and have deeply awesome offspring!
I don't even know what to say about Remus and Tonks. 'Uneven' is one word. 'Horribly depressing' is another couple. Patient, weary Remus doesn't seem the type to marry in haste and then run away from his pregnant wife. His reconciliation with Harry was too easy, for all that it eased my heart for Harry's sake. And then both of them dying, sight unseen, for Harry to see as symbols of his failure? Just... enh. How much tragedy must you heap on the poor man? It broke my heart, and made me mad at the *author* instead of the injustice, which is the wrong reaction.
I was so proud of Harry, though. For all his flaws, he grew into quite a man, and a true hero. (I loved when he joked to Ron that these things are never as cool as they sound.) I just want to ignore that damn epilogue. Thank goodness for fanfic. Let the games begin....
ETA: Also? First-naming all your children after people who were killed violently is not charming, it's CREEPY and CONFUSING. Ron and Draco escaped this impulse, fortunately.
no subject
And I think the whole "war hero" thing was okay re: violent deaths, though Ginny didn't get a lot of say in that, did she? "My dead parents and our old principal."
I waffle on whether I liked the epilogue or not. But I loved the book from start to finish, so. :)
no subject
Maybe Harry won out over Ginny by virtue of having *so* *many* dead people he wanted to name his kids after. ;)
I dunno, I always feel like giving someone the first name of a dead person is creepy, because names have such connotative power, especially when said child resembles the dead person. It's one thing to honor someone, and quite another to burden the namesake with that memory. Middle names are best, because they're not commonly used, but still say that the person's memory was honored. Does that make sense?